


Who's Got the Grumps

by VeraBAdler



Series: April 2019 challenges [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 07:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraBAdler/pseuds/VeraBAdler
Summary: Sam's morning takes a surprising turn after Dean gets up on the wrong side of the bed.Prompt: Grumpy morning heads





	Who's Got the Grumps

Mornings are Sam's favorite time of day. He likes to get out for a run before breakfast, or grab a workout in the Bunker's gymnasium if the weather is bad. Afterwards the place is usually his for a few hours, and he revels in the quiet, and the chance for uninterrupted thought. 

Today feels like a typical Tuesday as Sam goes about his routine. Once the clock starts to tick towards noon-thirty, he knows he can expect Dean to stir. He starts the coffeemaker and takes a seat in the kitchen, laptop on the table in front of him as he scans the news for anything like a case.

As expected, the scent of caffeine brings his brother stumbling in, looking substantially more peevish and disheveled than usual. His face carries the cross-eyed expression of a bear yanked from its den before its hibernation was complete, and his hair is so rumpled it seems like every strand points in a separate direction. He's only wearing one slipper. (Sam can see the other one – it fell off Dean's left foot about 6 steps down the hallway, and Dean doesn't seem to have noticed the loss.) His gray Men of Letters robe is cinched loosely around his waist and slipping off one shoulder, and although he wishes he couldn't, Sam can tell he's naked underneath.

“Uh, good morning?” Sam offers cautiously.

“No,” Dean replies. He makes a beeline for the coffee maker, which is burbling on the counter. “Why the fuck isn't the coffee ready yet?”

“I just hit the button like two minutes ago, Dean. Jesus. What's your problem today?”

“My problem is that I slept like _shit_ , Sam,” Dean grumbles. 

As he reaches into the cupboard for a mug, Cas shuffles in and slumps heavily into a chair at the table. He's wearing one of Dean's old band t-shirts and a pair of white boxers, and he's bleary-eyed, his face slack with exhaustion.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam greets. “I didn't know you were here.”

“He got in late last night,” Dean explains. Cas grunts in confirmation. “ _Really_ fucking late. And then he couldn't fall asleep because he was drinking Cherry Coke the whole drive here, so he kept flopping around like a dying fish and stealing the goddamn blankets all night. So now _I_ feel like shit because _he's_ a baby in a trench coat who doesn't know how to regulate his soda pop intake.”

Cas cracks a single eye open and manages to deliver a brief, smiting glare in Dean's direction.

Sam gapes at his brother, struggling to wrap his brain around the revelation implied by his words. “Wait, um...” He looks back and forth between them, but Dean is staring daggers at the coffee as it drips into the pot, and Cas seems to have dozed off in his chair. “Cas slept in your bed last night? With you?”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, Sam, he did. We're together, and we've been together for a while. I didn't want to have to have a big talk with you about it but I'm too damn tired to play it coy today. We're together, and you might as well get used to that right now because it's never gonna change.”

The coffee maker chooses that moment to finish its cycle, and Dean pounces at the pot. He fills his mug and carries it, steaming and fragrant, to the table. Then he sits down on Cas's lap, puts his head on Cas's shoulder, and closes his eyes. Within seconds, his breathing has slowed and he begins to snore quietly.

Cas wraps an arm around Dean's back, shifting them into a more stable position, then he drops a kiss in the middle of Dean's messy hair. He picks up the coffee with his other hand and downs half the mug in one gulp.

“Good morning, Sam,” he says, finally awake enough to be verbal. He nods towards Sam's laptop. “Have you found a case?”

“Uhh...” He shakes his head in a fruitless attempt to bring his brain back online after the surreality of the last few minutes. “No, you know what? I think today's a good day to for us to stick close to home and take it easy.”

Cas nods. He drains the rest of his coffee and then stands, shifting Dean easily into a bridal carry. “We'll go back to bed then.” And just like that he's gone, out of the room and down the hall.

“I'll be damned,” Sam mutters to himself. “Thought they'd never get their shit together.” He gathers up his laptop and heads towards his room. Fuck it. A nap does sound pretty good right about now.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable link for this fic on tumblr is [here.](https://blessyourhondahurley.tumblr.com/post/183916211211/april-3-morning-verabadler-supernatural)


End file.
